Biker Mice: House of the Rising Sun
by puppy dangerous
Summary: Stoker finds himself on Earth in a town where events keep getting stranger, and soon he is pulled into a world from which he may never fully escape.
1. Chapter 1

Pain. A heavy throb like a freight train bearing down on him, pressing him into the ground, leaving him groaning weakly. Slowly it passes, subsiding to a dull roar that echoes in every bone and tendon, sharp brightness fading to thick red. Smell of wet grass and heavy, rich soil, damp air, cold droplets falling, water dripping down his shoulders and across his back.

Slowly, Stoker pushes himself up on one arm, his shoulder cracking in protest. With a heavy, grunting exhalation he pulls his legs under himself, misjudges the slickness of the grass and slides down onto his bottom, wetness erupting across the seat of his heavy pants. He draws up his legs, crossing his arms over his knees he leans forward and rests his head against them, closing his eyes against a rhythmic pounding inside his skull.

A loud sharp sound that makes him jerk his head up, gasping as pain and dizziness slam over him, fighting them off as he tries to find the source. A woman shouting, crashing in the bushes followed by sliding steps. Something erupts from the foliage, emitting a series of deep barks. The dog is attached to a lead, and as he lifts his hand to fend off the animal the owner staggers through the dripping leaves, plants her feet in the ground and pulls on the narrow strip of heavy canvas with both hands, finally yanking the animal to a stop a few feet from him.

"What's wrong with you!" She admonishes loudly, then her eyes fall on Stoker and she freezes. "Oh, I see. Sit. Sit!"

The dog plops down on the ground, tong lolling. She pats it on the head as she walks over and drops down beside him, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. "You look pretty rough."

"I-" He hesitates, unsure of what to say.

"Can you walk?"

"I think so." He lets her take him by the arm and pull, staggering to his feet, looking down at her in the near darkness.

"Come on." She pulls his arm around her shoulder and moves, slowly and carefully, giving him time. "Lynn, come."

Through the brush there is a small road, dark in the twilight and rain. The dog, a tall, long legged animal with long a long shaggy coat, walks behind them with the leash carefully lifted and held in it's mouth. The sides of the road have grown up with brush, and it seems like a very long time before they are turning onto a driveway almost concealed by the heavy branches, a red metal gate secured with a length of chain which the woman deftly unlatches and swings open. Then they are walking out into an open field, overgrown with tall grass that waves softly in rain that has started to fall in earnest. Dim yellow lights, squares in the darkness that grow larger, lift as their perspective changes up over the dark treeline and into the shadow of a house with tall towers and sharply peaked roofs.

The boards on the porch are warped, squeak and groan as they walk across them, the yellow light shining beside the door casting dark shadows between the rough wood planks. The screen door opens with the long crackling creak of an old spring, the inner door swinging inward on oiled hinges.

They walk through a small room with a table spread with papers, then into a livingroom where the floor has been covered in layer after layer of ancient carpet. She leads him to a couch and pushes him softly down.

He wakes up in a bed, the covers pulled up over his chest. He sits up slowly, runs a hand over his body. The deep pain has subsided to a dull ache, and he moves against it, pulling at sore muscles. Carefully he stands up. Someone, he assumes the human looking woman that drifts dully in his memory, has taken off his shirt and vest, and to his vague surprise there are bandages wrapped around several places on his arm, and one across his side. Gingerly he prods his memory, finds something cold and damp, then nothing. He reaches, grasping, but the darkness persists.

When the door swings open he looks up with a slight jump, having been lost in thought. The woman is there, bathed now in full light. She is slightly tall for a human, thin, shaggy pink hair falling around the shoulders of her worn leather jacket. Her eyes are bright, but beneath them the dark streaks suggest many sleepless nights.

"Welcome back." She says.

"How long have I been out?"

"Two days, on and off." She walks over, enveloping him in a cloud of perfume.

Her hands are quick and sure as they pass over his body, ruffling the fur, the long fingers light. When she is satisfied she steps back away, tilts her head to the side and studies him.

"I haven't seen a Martian Mouse in a long time." She says finally.

"There aren't many of us around." Stoker admits.

"How did you get here?"

"I'm not sure." He touches his head reflexively. Memory tries to surface again, he almost catches it then it dances away, a silvery fish under the surface of the water.

"My name's Roxanne." The woman says, offering out her hand again.

"Stoker." He says, taking it in his own. "And thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. You might have gotten yourself into something big." Roxanne says. "Nobody comes to Hangdog City by accident." She jumps. "My ass is vibrating." She pulls out a phone, glances down at it. "I gotta boogie. There's food and stuff in the kitchen. Just whatever you do, don't go through any other doors."

Stoker watches her leave, then looks around and finds his shirt and vest on a chair. They are clean, so are his pants, and look considerably less worn then he remembers. Hestraps his holster on, slides his gun home, and pulls the door open.

He is looking out into a moonlit forest. No, not a forest, a hall, lined with doors, the trees are some sort of optical display like animated wallpaper. He stops at the next door, hesitates for the briefest second, then pulls it open. She had said go through, not look.

The door opens onto a staircase that ascends steeply up before turning and vanishing behind a wall. There are rooms off to either side. To the left, over a half wall, he can see a room filled with books, a large rough wooden table piled high in its center. To the right is another half wall, this one stands between the stairs and a rectangular room with a single long stone counter around its edge. He can see more doorways coming off farther up the staircase. Pulling back, Stoker closes the door. You could get lost in a place like that.

He is asleep on the couch when she comes back, the kitchen door wakes him and he sits up. She stops in the doorway to the living from, looking qt him. The bags under her eyes have deepened.

"This house isn't a house." He says.

"You've been looking through doors." She says with a smile.

"What is it?"

"Dreamtime. She's a pandimensional ship."

There is a strange undulating sound from outside. Roxanne makes a motion with her arms and the curtains part, the pasture bathed in moonlight. The two animals are standing looking toward the woods, on of them opens its mouth and emits the sound again, a warning call.

"Can you fight?" Roxanne asks.

"What? Yes, yes I can fight." He says.

"Come on, we can't let them reach the house."

Outside, the night has fallen eerily silent save for the slow, steady creak of the turning windmill. They stand in the yard, both of them straining their senses. The animals have fallen quiet, watching them.

A shadow among shadows, something long and low slinking through the brush. Then it passes into the open, into the moonlight, something that looks like a combination of machine and some sort of flexible organic tubes.

"What is that thing?" Stoker asks, lifting his gun and taking aim.

"Autonomous bio-mech." She says.

"How do we stop it?"

She slides the guitar case off of her shoulder, opens it and takes the instrument out.

"Is this really the time for that?" Stoker asks.

She strikes a chord, and he sees another shadow rising, this one up out of the ground, a strange blobby shape that seems to be mostly gaping maw lined with jagged sharp teeth. It surges toward the bio-mech, which pulls back but not fast enough. The mouth closes around the creature and then it is gone, swallowed into oblivion.

"There's another one." Stoker shouts. Then he sees them, more of them, slinking out of the brush. "I think we're surrounded."

More of the shadows bubble up out of the ground. The new creatures are ready for them, dodge and pounce. The dark masses are struck down, rise again.

There is a sharp sound as one of her guitar strings breaks, and one of the shadows vaporizes. It is followed by another.

Roxanne lowers the guitar, looking at the final creature. She lifts the guitar and it glows, morphs, changes into a sword, She stands, waiting as the thing charges them, then makes a calculated strike. The eyeless head rolls on the ground. For a moment, Stoker thinks he sees a change in her aura, something dark and sharp that seems to be clawing its way out of her, then she straightens up and it is gone.

The windmill creaks to a stop.

"Is that all of them?" He asks.

"For now." Roxanne makes a graceful twisting motion with the sword and it glows, widens, is the guitar again.

"What are they after?"

"They're looking for a way in."

"Into what?"

She gives him a long look, appraising, then gives a little shake of her head. "Into what's under this city."

"Don't trust me?"

"Not yet." She admits without a hint of regret. "Come on, let's go back inside."

"I've never seen a mouse with a mechanical tail." Roxanne comments several minutes later, pouring ground coffee into a filter and snapping it into place.

"Souvenir from the war." He says.

"Injured?"

"Lab."

She turns to look at him. "Who?"

"Dr Karbunkle." The name draws something cold and nasty into his chest.

She obviously recognizes the name, her eyebrows arch, then she nods. "You're lucky to have gotten away."

"Don't I know it." He says.

"So, how did you come to Earth?"

Stoker hesitates. "It's a long story."

"I've got time."

He collects his thoughts. "Well, in the beginning I led the rebellion against Plutark and the corrupt government. They'd bought out most of the planet, and the people, before we finally got the mice on our side, and by that time it was almost to late. They took what they wanted, and by the time we ran them off there wasn't much left.

I fell out with the rebellion, I...they had one of my friends, and I made a deal. Made something for them. The other mice don't trust me, now. They're after me."

A chunk of memory breaks free and crashes into his consciousness.

"Fever!" He says.

"Fever?"

"She's a bounty hunter. She was...she was after me and..." He reaches, grasping, catching a piece and pulling it off to examine. "I was on my bike and...and there was a dead end, then...then there was something there. A...a tear. And there were these things that came through, creatures," He shakes his head at jumbled impressions of eyeless faces, gaping mouths, dark tentacles "they grabbed me, I tried to fight them off, but they dragged me through."

Roxanne has leaned forward and is listening intently.

"Do you know what happened?" He asks.

"Maybe. I'll have to check some things." Roxanne says.

"What exactly do you do, aside from kill monsters."

"I'm...we'll say a detective." She says.

"Are you here after someone?"

"Eh, I'm here on my own time." She shrugs.

Silence spins out between them, fills the room as Roxanne drinks her coffee. Stoker gradually becomes aware of the dull pain over his body, the exhaustion of healing.

"You should get some rest." Roxanne says.

"That's what I was thinking."He says.

Roxanne walks him to the stairs, watches as he walks up. When she hears the door close she goes back onto the livingroom and sits down on the old golden tapestry couch, kicks off her shoes and puts her feet up.

"Get me May." She says to no one in particular.

The row of curtains slides open, revealing something that at first glance appears to be another living room, but on closer examination is probably the control room of a ship. An orange haired woman stands at its center, hands in the pockets of her uniform jacket.

"What? Hey, stand where I can loom at you. I swear, you're such a pain in the ass." Maysays by way of greeting.

Roxanne stands up, turns to look at the screen. "I have a mouse."

"Good for you." May says.

"A Martian mouse. Who came from Mars."

"So you have the other one." May says "You're in Hangdog, right? Whats he doing on Earth?"

"Says some monsters drug him through a portal."

"You're sure he didn't come through time?"

"Unless Dreamtime is wrong."

"Unlikely. Ok, we'll have a look." A pause. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I, well, I suppose I'm helping out a friend." Roxanne says with a smile.

"Better watch it, girlie." May says with a smirk.

Roxanne snaps her fingers and kills the feed. As usual, May has asked a very good question that she isn't sure she wants answered. She picks up her guitar and begins replacing the strings.


	2. Chapter 2

Fever rounds the bend and slams on the breaks. Stoker is cornered by three...she isn't sure what to call them. Some sort of animal that seem to be mostly gaping mouths vomiting forth masses of tentacles. Two of them knock Stoker to the ground and drag him toward something that looks like a rip in the air.

The third one sees her and dashes forward, tentacles reaching out. She fires twice but the thing doesn't even twitch. She turns the bike to run away but then it is upon her. The tentacles wrap around her arms and middle, one lashes across her neck and there is a stinging, then the world begins to go hazy.

When light fades back into the world there is something cold and wet falling on her face. Rain. She sits up, looks around. Unfamiliar terrain, tall alien trees over a bed of brown fallen leaves. The air here is oxygen rich, making her head spin and she waits before she tries to stand.

She can see a light up ahead, on the top of the hill. She hesitates, then starts to walk toward it, sliding in the mud several times and catching herself with her hands. She soon comes up on buildings, one small and squarish and two long and rectangular. A tall sign shines over the parking lot.

Feeling dizzy and slightly ill, she stops at the steps up to what must be a house. The white building is made of wood, the front porch sagging slightly. A light burns brightly inside, casting watery shadows.

An invisible string twitches. Inside the house, Richard Beckett has been sitting at the kitchen table. Now he looks up, unfurls his tall body and walks through the house to push the front door open. He looks out, sees her, hurries across the creaking boards to grab her by the arm and draw her toward the warm yellow light shining through the doorway.

He speaks to her, but she doesn't understand. Realizing this he falls silent, takes her inside and sits her down at the kitchen table. He turns the overhead light on and looks at her, moves forward to tilt her head up and examine her neck. He speaks again, then goes over to a cabinet and pulls it open. He returns with bandages and some sort of sweet smelling amber salve which he applies to a wound before bandaging it.

Another touch on the arm and she is following him up a narrow staircase, supporting herself on the rail. The hall has five doors, two on each side and one on the end. He pulls open the second door on the right and she walks into a bedroom. He pats the bed, speaks again. She obediently sits down, feeling relieved as her head settles slightly.

At some point later she is aware of him coming in again, standing as though monitoring her breath, then the door closes again. Later she drifts in to voices in the hall, one very young. The door beside hers opens, closes, there is the creak of bed springs, then she hears the man speaking again. After a moment she realizes he must be telling the child a bedtime story. She falls back asleep to the rhythmic rise and fall of the alien words.

Morning light is streaming in when she sits up, touches the wound on her neck. She stands and walks to the window, looking out over green trees that fall away down a hill, past them a glimpse of unkempt pasture under a clear blue sky

There is a tap at the door, then it opens and she sees a small human, a child with bright orange hair and green eyes.

"Richard said to come get you." He says.

"What?" She is so surprised that she flounders for a moment.

"You can understand me, right?" He says.

Fever nods.

"Good." The boy seems remarkably calm and poised.

"How..." Fever starts.

"Mom says it comes with the job." The boy says. "I can talk to everybody. My name's Tommy."

"I'm Fever." She says, then "Can I try something on you?"

"Will it hurt?"

"Shouldn't."

He nods. She steps forward, drops down so she is at eye level with him, resting her antenna lightly on his head she reaches for his mind, feeling for language. There is a sudden brightness, a feeling of incredibly long distance and expanses of time. Then there it is, glittering, and she draws it out. Understanding, culture, the world slides into her mind and with it something else, something old and wise that seems to look at her, approve, nod and move away then is gone.

"Earth?" She says. "How did I get here?"

"Dunno. You'd better talk to Richard." The boy takes a step back, heading toward the open door.

The kitchen smells like frying meat, and the man, Richard, is standing at the stove poking something with a fork. He smiles when they come in.

"Good morning." He says.

"Hello." Fever says, lifting a hand slightly.

"Oh, you speak English now." Richard says.

"I, ah, learned." She says.

"Good. Sit down. " He motions to the table where Tommy has already settled down.

"So, what brings you to Hangdog?" Richard asks.

"I'm not sure, really. I was ed someone, an outlaw, on Mars and then something happened. some sort of animals, I suppose you'd call them. Then I woke up here, dowm in the woods." Fever says.

"Well, stranger things have happened." Richard says with a shrug. "I guess now the question is how do we get you home?"

"I thought," She pauses, goes on "I thought Earth hadn't...shouldn't you be freaking out about an alien?"

"Oh, I think you underestimate the people of Earth. " He says. "But to answer your question, we aren't from here, either. And this t own, it's not exactly normal."

The phone rings. Richard picks it up, listens for several moments, then. says "Ok, I'm on my way." To the two of them "Duty calls. Tommy, go find her a room, Ok?"

He goes upstairs, and when he comes back down he has a gun strapped to his hip.

"He's the police." Tommy says at her arched eyebrow. "Come on, I'll get you a room."

"You get left home alone a lot?" Fever asks.

"Oh, I'm not alone." He says. "Besides, this place is pretty safe. Not much messes with her."

...

The old squad car pulls back into the parking lot and Richard steps out, brushing mud from his pants. A light is shining on the first floor of the nearest motel building, and he pauses for a moment to look at it before walking up to the old white house and stepping up onto the porch.

Tommy is sitting up watching TV, he turns when Richard comes in.

"Did Fever go to her room?" Richard asks.

"Mm-hm." He shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

"Did you get a chance to talk to her at all?"

"Yeah. She's a bounty hunter. After some guy named Stoker, says he's really nasty. War crimes."

"What about the creatures?"

"Definitely from Stringworld, but I never saw them before. Here," he offers out a sheet of paper. "I drew one."

"I gotta run to the ship for a second." Richard says.

Thomas waves at him distractedly.

Richard crosses the parking lot and goes up the stairs to the second floor of the nearest motel building, down at the end there is a door with a glowing exit sign over it. He pulls it open and steps through.

The ship is a ship in name only, a complicated mass of organisms that allow passage through time and space, existing on a dimension just slightly to the left of our own. It was a true mechanical space vessel at one point, and remnants of its former life show in shape of the walls, the rounded metal doors. But the interior has been largely stripped, walls painted, sleek seats replaced with worn armchairs. The command center looks more like a living room, with a table scattered with half full cups, magazines, and small equipment. The kind of thing you'd never see on a conventional spacecraft, where the loss of gravity is a possibility at any time.

May is sitting in her armchair, eyes closed, a burning cigarette in one hand.

"I have a new guest." Richard says. "Martian mouse. From Mars."

"Mars is dead. Plutark took it." May says without opening her eyes.

"Well, she said she was on mars hunting someone when these things appeared and drug them both through a portal." He offers out the sheet of paper.

She opens her eyes, takes the paper and looks at it for a few moments. Then she hands it back.

"Do you know them?"

"They belong to Crowe."

"Why would Crowe bring Martian mice to Earth?"

"Dunno. " She leans back and closes her eyes. "Let me think about this."

...

Richard steps outside after he has put Tommy to bed, standing on the porch and breathing the cool fresh air that wafts over the band of forest. He glances over and sees Fever standing outside as well, seeming lost in thought.

"Nice night." He comments, walking up.

She nods. "It used to be like this on Mars, back before the war."

"So, Tommy says you're here chasing someone."

"His names Stoker. He helped Plutark during the war."

"And he's here now?"

"I think that's likely."

Richard nods. "We'll start searching tomorrow. If he's here, we'll find him. "

"You said you aren't from here, either. What brings you to Earth?"

"I'm sot of doing a favor for a friend." He says.

"That boy, he's not normal, is he?"

"No, he's not. He has something, a gift or maybe a power. He can see things, just like his mother."

"What sort of things?"

"I'm not really quite sure. I think maybe they see time differently then we do."

...

Richard knocks on he front door of the old farm house. After several moments it opens and a woman is standing there, a thin creature with shaggy pink hair falling around the collar of her leather jacket.

"Its the fuzz." She greets him.

"Hey,Roxanne, you seen anything more unusual than normal around here?"

"Nope, but I haven't 'zactly been looking." She she says.

"Well, if you do, let me know." He says.

"Rodger." She salutes him.

As she watches him leave her eyes narrow, then she goes back inside. Walking up the stairs she pushes the door open and looks in at the still form under the blanket. Unusual, huh.


	3. Chapter 3

The guitar invades Stokers dreams, draws him slowly back to an old house smell tinged with something else, something sharp and alive. He sits up in the near darkness, the only light a shaft of moon that slides through the curtains and lays like a sleeping snake on the wooden floor. He pricks his ears as the voice starts again, clear and unfaltering. He smiles.

As he walks down the last of the stairs he sees Roxanne sitting on the couch, playing the guitar as she sings. He stops in the doorway and stands, looking at her. She opens one eye and looks over at him, then lets her hand fall against the strings, silencing the instrument.

"Don't stop." Stoker says, walking over to sit down beside her.

"Popo was here yesterday." Roxanne says, turning a peg slightly and trying the string again.

"Who?" Stoker says.

"Five-oh, boys in blue, coppers, you know, the police." Roxanne turns the peg again. "Sheriff, to be exact."

"What for?" Stoker asks.

"Lookin for something 'unusual'." Roxanne says, glancing up at him. "Wonder what he was talking about."

He looks her up and down again. "You hardly know me, and you're protecting me. Why?"

She drums her fingers on the body of the guitar. Then she hits a chord and belts out "Old man, walkin down the street... I dunno, man. I just got a feelin about you, that's all."

"The bio-mechs, were they here after me?"

"Probably."

"Won't they notice they went missing?"

"Only one went missing. The other two went back clean, not a thing on their memory. They don't know you're here. Hopefully he'll just assume something unfortunate happened to the other one."

"Something unfortunate did." Stoker says. "That's quite a power you have there. Is it the weapon itself, or is it you?"

"Both." She says. "Here." She offers him the guitar.

It feels strange in his hand, alive, almost buzzing. There is a noise from inside, and abruptly the strings are gone and something is coming through the hole in the middle, something in a wide yellow hat. The tiny creature looks like a human skeleton dressed in a sombraro, shawl, and short pants. It peers at him with painted black eyes.

"Yo." The skeleton says.

"Hey, Paco." Roxanne says. "Nice of you to finally show up."

"Martian mouse." Paco says, looking Stoker up and down.

"What did you find out?" Roxanne asks.

"He came from mars." Paco says.

"We've already established that." Roxanne says. "How?"

"Word on the street, Crowe did it." Paco says.

"Why?"

"Think he was trying to take him to the castle and the signal got jacked." Paco says.

"Why would Crowe want you?" Roxanne asks.

"I don't even know who Crowe is." Stoker says.

"Hm, maybe we should have a little chat." Roxanne says, then to the house "Get me Mercury Crowe."

The curtains slide open to reveal a throne room, gleaming white columns and floors with a raised platform upon which sits a twll golden throne. A man slumps in the heavy burgundy cushion, all in white, wearing a cloak adorned with the moving heads of many birds.

"My, my, so you have my little mouse." Crowe says.

"I'm not yours." Stoker growls.

"Well, you have quite an attitude, and with what I'm offering and all..."

"And what's that?"

Crowe leans forward and starts to speak. They listen in silence, Stoker frowns several times then shakes his head.

"Where are you planning on getting that kind of power?"

"Oh, you leave that up to me."

"Why are you doing this?" Roxanne asks.

" I've got my reasons." Crowe says.

"What makes you think this is even going to work?" Stoker asks.

"Because it's already worked." Crowe says.

Roxanne flashes a sudden smile. "Ah. I see how it is." She turns to Stoker. "Give it a go. See what happens."

She kills the image with a snap of her fingers. Stoker tilts his head at her. "You know something."

"This has May written all over it." Roxanne says. "She's up to something."

"Who's May?"

"Oh, this woman who's always poking her nose where it doesn't belong." Roxanne says.

"I still don't understand how this is supposed to work." Stoker says.

"Here, lemmie show you something." Roxanne says.

She leads him through the kitchen, to a small room that is really only the meeting of four doors. She pushes open one of them, stairs leading down into a basement. But the light that filters up through the shadows has a strange, blue-green tint.

"Come on." She motions for him to follow her. "And shut the door."

As they walk down the smooth walls become covered with strange blue-black tubes, and soon these have sprouted phosporescent fungus that casts the world into half light. The stairs are eaten, becoming a softly sloping tunnel, at the end of which is a door. Roxanne takes the knob and turns it, pulling the door open to a burst of blue-green light.

They are standing at the edge of a city contained in a tall dark dome, a bright shaft glowing at it's center. The buildings are tall, composed of the dark tubes, long bridges connecting them across broad streets.

"Welcome to HangDog City." Roxanne says.

"What is this place?"

"It was a ship once, a pandimensional ship, then it crashed here and...grew."

"So this is under the city? Do the people know?"

"Most of them. Most of us aren't from here."

"So, the house is a pandimensional ship, too, is it here?"

"Not really. The door is a portal into the ship, that's just a house."

Stoker stands looking around, absorbing this.

"The ship is alive, a collection of organisms that function together. This one isn't a ship anymore, but you get the idea. When they're functioning, they can move through space and time, sort of crawl."

"That still doesn't explain-"

"So what you'll do is make a seed, a program, that slowly matures. Then when it's time, it will be released."

"We don't have that much time left." Stoker says.

"That's where the time travel comes in. See, if May is in on this, like I think she is, what she's going to do is go put it somewhere safe, long ago, and let it grow. Maybe even on Mars. That would explain why Crowe said it already worked." Roxanne gives him an appraising look. "Why'd he choose you?"

"I made a machine that makes water." Stoker says. "Converts matter at a nano level, using very little power. But it's dangerous, has a side effect from prolonged exposure."

"Mm." She says. "No good."

He shakes his head. "But it's our only chance."

"Where is it now?"

"Not sure." He says. "Who lives in this city?"

"You'll see in a minute, here comes a welcome party."

Stoker takes a step back as three tall creatures approach. They wear dark armor, helmets over long faces and backturned ears, their prehensile three tipped tails coiled in the air behind them.

"Hello." Roxanne says brightly.

"You're the mouse Beckett is loking for." One of them says in a mechanical voice, the modulator of the helmet.

"Yeah, about that..." Roxanne says, taking a step back.

"We'vebeen instructed to help you." The creature pulls the helmet off, shaking out a dark red mane. "I'm Zero. These are Panic and Crond." He motions to the others, who take off their helmets.

"Instructed? By who?"

"May."

"Heh." Roxane chuckles.

"This May person seems to be coming up a lot." Stoker says.

"Looks like she wants you alive no matter what. Might be bad news for your mousie friend."

"She's going to kill Fever?"

"Might."

"No!" Stoker protests. "There aren't many of us left as it is."

"Why don't we go back to Dreamtime, have a little chat with her."

...

"I can see your point, and its very noble." May draws on a cigarette, the smoke drifting up around her head. "You do realize that's gonna make your job so much harder."

"Can't you just..." Roxanne waves her hands.

"What, send Fever back to Mars?" May says.

"Yes, that would work nicely." Roxanne says.

"Well she's holed up in that motel, and the Daye can't just reach in there and grab her."

"So, why don't you come and-"

"I ain't sendin my people in there to get themselves killed tryin to nab some bounty hunter who, far as I can tell, is well within her rights. Hell, far as anybody knew up until two days ago Mars was dead."

"Well, its not." Stoker hisses.

"Easy, boy, I'm workin on it." May says. "But I can't do it without Crowe. You should go over there."

"I don't trust him." Roxanne says.

"Neither do I. But he's got a stake in all this."

Roxane nods slowly, then turns to look at Stoker. "How about it, you wanna go pay him a visit?"

Stoker shrugs.

She whistles sharply and the dog appears again, walking at her side as they go up the stairs and into the moonlit hall, through the last dooe on the left. It opens into a room, which opens into another a hall, through a set of doors, then more rooms, endless rooms, and finally through a heavy curtain and into a gleaming marble hall.

Two armored chronosatyrs, their hands heavy claws, stand before a set of golden double doors which form a high arch at the end of the hall. They look over at the human and mouse but don't move to stop them when Roxanne pushes the doors open.

The throne room sits on the other sid, wide witefloor and crimson curtains leading to a tall gold throne where the man sits, the birds on his cloak twisting and cawing. He lifts a hand and they fall silent. Standing, he walks down to the floor and across to look at them.

"So, you're Stoker." He says.

"Yeh, yeah, I think we all know eachothers names. Now, what do you have planned?"

"Perhaps I should have someone better qualified explain." Crowe says.

A female chronosatyr appears from behind a curtain, her white hair pulled up into two poofy ponytails. She loks at them with bright yellow eys,

"This is Moky Grrl. She'll be helping you."

"Come with me." Mokey says, motioning with one hand.

They follow her through the curtain, down I to a dark tunnel lit by glowing fungus. Down through a msze of tunnels, then they are coming on a swamp where the water glitters with glowing fish, and perhaps darker creatures lurking in the shadows. The tubs grow here from the water, twisted into strange trees who's branches tsngle into a solid ceiling from which hang glowing orbs. Along the water, then there is a raised walkway made of narrower tubes, which they follow across the water, making several turns. Then another tunnel, this one widening and opening into the flat plane that surounds the city.

Roxanne reaches into hr pocket as her phone buzzes, pulls it out to look. Then, to Mokey "Bring him back to Dream when you're done."Mokey nods. Roxanne leans down to the dog. "You keep an eye on him"

...

Stoker pushes the door open, letting the dog pass through before him, and steps into the night forest. Lynn trots down the stairs and he follows her int the living sunlight filters through a crack in the curtains. The house is still, empty.

Stoker looks at Lynn, who sits and looks back up at him with wet dark eyes. She thumps her tail on the ground several times. Then her head cocks, she turns to look behind and Stoker twists around to look as he barely hears the shuffle of a foot.

The woman looks human, but he sees something in her green-gold aura that suggests otherwise. She leans against the old upright piano and delivers a spoonfull of yogurt to her mouth. Bright eyes glitter from under blonde dredlocks pulled bqck in a spotted bandanna.

"So, we finally meet." She says.

"I'm Stoker. I take it this is your ship?"

"Yup. Frumplenorf. You can call me Zee."

"Do you know where Roxanne went off to?"

"Beats me. We can find her, if you want. Probably out there, in the city."

He thinks of the sun and feels his ears flatten.

"Oh, he doesn't like that idea. You afraid of somethin, boy?" Her face has gone keen. "Nobody here gonna blink an eye at you, cept of course if they're in with the sheriff. But that's not it, is it. You've got a secret."

Stoker steps back.

"Heh. I see something." She says.

He can feel her reaching for him across the room, touching him, he ties to pull away but then icy fingers slide in, his defenses crumble. The monster moves.

Her smile never flickers. "I see. That explains why she's taken such a shine to you. Better watch out, boy, you're getting into something here..."

"They said they can save Mars." Stoker says.

"They probably can. With the right help." She steps away from the door, crosses the room and walks in a slow circle around him. "You're smart." She says.

"I do Ok." Stoker stifles a yawn.

...

Voices downatairs. He sits up, pricks his ears. Roxanne and Zee, and ah he focuses and brings the conversation into clarity he is already in his feet, pulling on his pants.

Roxanne is satanding beside, no leaning against, Zee. Her jacket is falling from one blood shoulder.

"Help me." Zee says, seeing him.

Stoker walks over and lifts her into his arms, feeling a slick arm wrap around his neck. He feels something move that shouldn't, she gasps and shudders.

"She needs a hospital." He says.

Roxanne shakes her head weakly. "Nno."

"She'll heal She just needs time." Zee says.

Stoker has his doubts, but he has to rust them. He carries her upstairs and they pull open a door to another bedroom, at Zees prompting he puts her down on the bd.

"She's come back from worse than this. She'll be fine." Zee says. Seeing stokers look she adds "You can stay with her, if it will make you feel any better."

Stoker pulls the chair closer to the bd and settls down, he feels like he's on death watch.

At some point he must have fallen asleep, because something wakes him and he sits up straight to look atht ebed. There is something the in the darkness, a shadow by the beed, it seems to be looking down at her. For a second he thinks it must be the Reaper come to take her away, then it shifts, looks up at him. He sees bright white eyes, a widening strip of mouth full of sharp teeth.

"Wait." Stoker says as it shimmers.

The form stops, looking at him.

"Will she be Ok?"

The shadow nods.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

The shadow comes around the bed. As it gets closer he can feel it, a vibration in the air. It stops just in front of him, leans down, its face close to his. The mouth opens slightly, then presses against his. It is surprisingly warm and soft, there is a feling, a pull, a brightness that fades softly back into the dark.

Then he is waking up again and it is dark outside. Roxanne is sitting up in the bed, rolling her shoulders and neck around.

"What happened?" Stoker asks.

"There's this guy, real bad news. Named Richard Rancee. He's after a core, wants the one from the ship here."

"And you're here to stop him?"

"Among other things. You don't worry about that."

He wants to ask her about the dark form, but he half thinks it was a dream.

"Have you been here the whole time?"

"Yeah."

She twists around, pushing her feet off of the side of the bed as she scoots forward. She leans in, looking closesly at him. He looks up, meeting her eyes, their faces inches fromeach other. The she moves, her mouth slides open and she kisses him softly.

"What was that for?"

"For being one of the Good Guys." She says.

Footsteps in the hall, the door swings open. "Oh good, you're awake. Come down and eat something."

...

Zee vanishes again after dinner, leaving them sitting in the living room. Roxanne pulls out the guitar and starts to replace the strings. He listens as she tunes it.

"You're not ordinary." He says aftera few minutes. "How do you heal so fast?"

Roxanne thinks for a moment, then starts to talk.

...

The prison ship slides through space, it's engines thrumming gently. A great utiltarian beast made of dull gray panels and wide rotating bands. Inside, rows of white pods, attended by skittering robots that pause at each to check the vital signs.

There is a beep, a whirr, another beep. The robots begin to move with purpose, heading toward one of the pods. They surround it, reaching out with delicate arms to prod the controls. The pod flashes, opens like an exotic flower. Time comes back into the world.

Captain Hollister peers at the readout on his desk as he sips coffee. A signal bleeping through space, a mysterious wave that seems to almost say something. A distress signal?

He flicks his communicator. "Send me Roxanne and Adam."

The computer murmurs, then the display switches to the two pods. Heavier robots approach, stand waiting as the smaller machines work. When the white petals open they reveal a boy and girl, both in their teens. The girl appears to be younger, with shaggy pinkish hair, the boy tall with a brown ponytail down his back, both of them dressed in the prisoners jumpsuit. Most people stumble out of a stasis pod, disoriented, but these two simply step down and look at the robots with interest as the cuffs are snapped into place.

"You two," Hollister says a few minutes later "Have been selected for a mission. We're getting a signal from that...whatever it is. I want you to go check it out."

"Do we get anything for this?" Roxanne asks.

"Yeah. You get a break from the pod. Get down there." He jerks his thumb toward the transport room.

"So, how does he know we won't take off?" Adam asks as they step down onto the surface of the planet, which turns out to be something like a gigantic ball of yarn, the ground a mass of wrapped blue-black cables.

"Well, the transport ship only goes back up there. And what are we gonna do here, anyway?" Roxanne lifts a hand and peers toward the horizon. "Hey, do you see a light up there?"

It is a several mile hike to the light, which turns out to be a blue-green orb on a stand of the same tubes. The two stand looking up at it, bathed in eerie light. Together they look down at a hole in the ground, a tunnel that drops steeply away into near darkness, a pale blue-green glow deep down.

Roxanne and Adam look at each other. They both flick on their lights and start to walk, heading beneath the surface. The light becomes brighter, and soon they turn off their lamps and walk by the light of fluorescing fungus.

The path starts to widen, opening up, then they are standing at the edge of a wide swamp, the tubes growing, twined together, from the water like trees. Just under the surface of the water, bright creatures flash and move. Orbs of blue-green light are suspended from the branches, casting the scene in a pale ambient glow.

Something tall is walking off in the swamp, a creature with long, thin legs that wades through the water. It's huge shoulder blades, thrusting high up above it's narrow back, swish as it walks. There is something riding on it, a smaller creature with a long face and long, back-turned ears. It's tail splits into three tips halfway down, which appear to be plugged into the creature.

Roxanne and Adam draw back until it has passed, then start to pick their way around the edge of the swamp. Soon they see a raised path, growing out of the swamp on twisting tubes.

"You wanna try it out?" Adam asks.

"I'm game if you are." Roxanne says.

Across the path and through another tunnel, and then they are stepping into a wide round opening that looks as though it was once some sort of city. A weak, sick glow seems to come from it's center. They start to pick their way through what is left, buildings created out of the dark tubes seem to be sagging and falling, and long pale strands are scattered all over the ground.

At the very center, there is a sack trembling with pale light, throbbing slightly. Cradled in the tubes, it seems to be breathing its last. A hum is in the air, the feeling of electricity. Adam walks over to it, reaches out.

"I don't think that's a good-" Roxanne starts, but then his fingers touch it and there is a burst of light.

As the light glows brighter and brighter, engulfing Adam, the city seems to be shrinking, curling up, coming down. Roxanne is to stunned even to scream. The light becomes the world. When the light settles, Adam is left standing there. He is glowing from within, blazing like fire. He takes a step toward her, she draws back. He seems to cool, pulling in, then he is standing there.

"I...I can see." He says softly.

"See what?" Roxanne asks.

"Everything." Adam says.

The structure is still sliding, slowly now, solidifying into what is clearly a ship.

Captain Hollister spits his coffee out and stares at the planet, which has just exploded into a burst of light and then coalesced again into an elegant ship the likes of which he's never seen. It tilts from side to side, as if testing, then simply pops out of existence.

"Dammit!" He pounds his fist on the desk. This is coming out of his pay.

...

"That ship crashed here later, much later." Roxanne says. "Or earlier, depending on where you're standing."

"It changed both of you." Stoker says.

"Yep."

"Is that where..." He pauses, unsure of what to say.

"You saw her, huh. Yeah, that's the other part."

He reaches out impulsively and puts a hand on hers. She looks over at him from under her hair, her eyes bright again.

Outside the house that is not a house the night goes on about its business, crickets murmur, frogs sing, somewhere in the woods an owl speaks to no one in particular. Above it all, on the hill, the motel sign shines like a beacon.


End file.
